Words of Wisdom
by Mitsukai
Summary: He is a struggling author; she is an expressive reader. However, their greatest story is neither one written nor read, but the one they will experience together. AU, DeiSaku. HIATUS.
1. First Encounters

**Words of Wisdom**

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Naruto, I'd be on a beach sipping martinis and ignoring all age limits. Screw the rules; I have money. Oh, and the money phrase does not belong to me either.

**Author's Note: **Hard to believe I've been here for a year, eh? Harder to believe I've only dished out five stories. If I'm to write for the rest of my high school career, that means I'd end up with a total of four stories. Thus, I decided to double up on stories rather than be a stickler for my own, self-imposed rule of having only one chapter story going at a time. Besides, I really like the idea of this one, though it took me forever to write this chapter. And I hate the title, so it's susceptible to change, as are the chapter titles. Gr... Oh, well, it's my first AU as well as DeiSaku, so please bear with me. I know it's a completely different take than the 'conventional' AU DeiSaku fanfictions, but I'd love feedback. I'm not really sure whether or not I should continue this story or just write something more worthwhile.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 1: First Encounters**

Drag in a long breath, just long enough to taste the smoke, and exhale smoothly, creating a small cloud of pollution. Not that the blonde man cared about his contributions to the environment, of course, so he continued his constant pattern. Drag, taste, exhale, and repeat.

He sighed and closed his eyes, shoving his stray bangs behind his ear in a vain attempt to tame them. They fell back in front of his left eye, concealing its striking azure hue beneath a curtain of yellow.

The man inhaled again, sucking in sharply whilst savoring the taste of the cigarette in his mouth.

Life was slow. He had not released any of his novels recently, due to an unfortunate writer's block, and he knew all too well that he was slowly slipping into the forgotten memories of the people's minds. Needless to say, that was something he desperately wanted to avoid. After all, the sales of his stories were all that kept some food on his table and some money in his pockets. And that was all he needed for now.

Suddenly, a higher-pitched and more mechanical version of some one-hit wonder rock song from the year before rang through the air.

_Heh. Kinda like me_.

Smiling ironically at the connection, the man flipped open his cell phone in one fluid movement. "Yeah?"

"Deidara, where the hell are you?" asked an irritated voice from the other line. "More importantly, where the hell is the manuscript you promised me? How am I supposed to be an editor when there's nothing to edit?"

Deidara, the blonde man with a cigarette, frowned. "I told you already, I've been having some trouble writing lately, yeah. It wouldn't be worth your time to even look at this stuff I've concocted. It's some seriously bad crap, yeah."

"Whatever. Just give me the crap. The publisher's getting all up in my face about your newest book, and they're really pressing me to send it to them ASAP. So hurry before someone gets mortally wounded." With that, Deidara's grumpy editor hung up.

"Stupid moron," muttered the author as he closed the phone and stashed it in the right pocket of his jeans. "Writing is an art and can't be hurried, yeah. When will he learn that?"

He looked to the sky, leisurely taking another drag of his cigarette. "O, sky, wherefore hast thine inspiration left thee?"

Deidara stood for a moment, just staring at the heavens above, almost as though he expected an answer, but of course, he received none. Instead, he just grinned enigmatically to himself and walked away.

* * *

"—and nevermore would the dragon plague the kingdom." Sakura smiled kindly to the young children surrounding her with wondrous expressions. "My name is Haruno Sakura—that's S-A-K-U-R-A—and I'll be reading to you today" had been how she introduced herself. It was always how she introduced herself to young children. For some obscure reason or another, they always seemed interested in how her name was spelled, so she made it customary to address that in her self-introduction. She also made sure to address the topic of her unique hair color. 

It was natural! She swore it was!

"Bye-bye, Haruno-sensei!" called the class in unison after her as she swung open the door, arching her neck to grant them one last friendly grin.

"See ya later, kids!"

With that farewell, she walked through the doorway with a lighthearted gait, almost seeming like she was floating, for lack of a better word, down the hallway. Opening another door, the woman strode, much in the same fashion, out onto the sidewalk.

She had only taken a few steps down the street when she heard a low, disbelieving voice speak, "Pink hair, yeah? My eyes deceive me. Must be getting old, yeah…"

Sakura swiftly pivoted on her heel, ready to angrily face down the idiot who was about to insult her hair. Or, at least, that was what she assumed.

"Suddenly I'm inspired. I think I'll write this into my story, yeah. Screw whatever the editor thinks; I like the ideas coming into my head," he finished, not quite talking to anyone but still informing anyone who heard. "Oh!" he exclaimed, suddenly noticing that she still stood there. "Um…hi, yeah."

"I inspired you?" was the first thing that left her mouth, surprising herself since she had originally intended to shout at him in some way or another.

He appeared unsure at responding. "Well, it was more of your hair that inspired me, but sure, yeah."

Sakura could only stare at the odd, blonde man.

"What, yeah?"

Shaking her head, she reminded herself of her manners and introduced herself, "Sorry. I'm Haruno Sakura."

"Fitting name," he mumbled, bringing a cigarette that she somehow failed to notice before to his lips and taking a long drag. Then, he grinned and followed her suit, "Most people know me by Deidara, yeah."

_Deidara, huh?_ The name rang a bell in Sakura's mind, but it did not quite click immediately. However, it did soon enough. "You mean the author Deidara?!"

"Artist," he promptly corrected. "Writing's an art, yeah. A much more difficult one to master, too."

Sakura, who was in too much of a shock at meeting _Deidara_ of all people, did not process the question enough to argue, instead asking, "How so?"

Deidara was more than happy to share his beliefs, maybe even 'convert' another person or so. "You know, instead of just drawing or whatever-ing what you see in your mind, you have to try to get the reader to see the exact same image with nothing but words to help you. Then you have to pick the _exact _right word to portray the right image, otherwise the reader's completely lost, yeah." He sucked in some more of the smoky air, closing his eyes as he lost himself in thought.

Before he became completely immersed within his subconscious, Sakura abruptly recaptured his attention. "You do realize you're right outside an elementary school, right?"

He shrugged. "What of it, yeah?"

"You're setting a terrible example for the children inside. Smoking is a 'bad' thing," she told him, making air quotes as though to emphasize that the tobacco would lead to misfortune in some way or another.

Deidara laughed at her. "Cute," he commented in reference to her hand gestures. "I don't believe I've seen air quotes since high school."

"Har har."

"I know, yeah. I'm just hilarious, aren't I?"

"You have awful speaking skills for an author," she retorted, despite having not really been insulted and thus not having much to retort to.

The blonde man smirked. "And that's _precisely_ why I'm a writer, not a reader."

Sakura blinked. This smart-mouthed man, he could not be Deidara! Certainly not one of the many (and boy, did she mean _many_) celebrity males that her best friend fawned over. The pink-haired girl vaguely remembered from a few years ago how her friend described the most recent obsession at the time.

* * *

"_Oh. My. God. You will __**not **__believe how hot this guy is!" Ino squealed, clutching the magazine portraying said hot guy to her bosom like a prize. "I mean, seriously, when you think 'author,' you think of a skinny, ugly nerd who stares at a computer all day until he's suddenly inspired by something poetic and types faster than I can say sleepover, am I right?"_

_Her friend remained silent, wisely choosing to not voice her opinion of authors._

_Ignoring the silence, the pony-tailed girl continued, "But __**this **__guy! He's the most beautiful man I have ever seen, and not the gay type of beautiful! I mean, seriously, his eyes are gorgeous, and his hair—don't get me started on that!"_

"_Show me the picture already, you pig."_

"_Forehead!" Ino shot back, but laughingly obliged and tossed her friend the magazine._

_Right on the cover was a black and white photograph of a man, maybe a few years older than the two girls, wearing a half-unbuttoned black dress shirt. The head title 'Prodigious Author Leads the New Generation to Fame' was printed in bold red across the small, buttoned portion of his shirt. Sakura flipped to the page of the article and read the story._

'_Young prodigies have been popping out all over the nation and the brilliant author known simply as Deidara is just the first of them. With already three novels reaching #1 on best seller lists around the world, he may easily also be the most talented. Other up-and-coming young people include Uchiha Itachi, the promising businessman and heir to Uchiha Enterprise, Akasuna no Sasori, the eccentric yet multitalented artist as well as a reportedly close friend of Deidara, and a civil rights activist known simply as Hidan who advocates for the right of free speech and freedom of religion around the world.' Pictures of all the men mentioned by the reporter lined the article like a border._

"_What a load of crap," said Sakura ironically. "There's talent in every generation; what makes this one so special? The fact that they're all sexy, young men?"_

"_Well, there's no denying __**that**__!" Ino exclaimed with a giggle. "Besides, who's to argue when there's a wonderful drool-worthy picture of each of them on one page?"_

_The other girl clicked her tongue. "You're so shallow, Ino. For all we know, they could be the most stuck-up pricks we could ever find on this half of the planet. They certainly look like they are, at least."_

"_Jeez, Forehead, it's not like we'll ever meet them," her 'shallow' friend grumbled. "Party pooper."_

"_You only like Deidara so much because his hair's so much like yours."_

"_Shut up!" the blonde snapped with flushed cheeks, snatching the magazine with the oh-so-important pictures back and hugging it to her bosom once more._

_Needless to say, Sakura was quite certain that Ino never threw away the magazine, possibly having cut out the pictures and framed them instead.

* * *

_

"Whatever happened to you?" asked Sakura.

"What do you mean, yeah?"

"'Prodigious Author Leads the New Generation to Fame,'" she recited. "You were in the headlines everywhere. One of the 'greatest young minds and an asset for the future' was what they called you. What happened to that?"

He shrugged. "It's not my style."

"Not your style?" she scoffed. "You mean you don't like all that publicity? It sure didn't look like it in those pictures!"

Deidara narrowed his eyes. "Have you even read my stories?" he asked.

"Well…no," she admitted, "but I'd assume that if you were as good as they say, you'd take pride in all the fame that comes with it."

"Sure, I'm pretty good, yeah. But I'm not about to change the future. That's not my thing."

"Could you please—oh, I don't know—_elaborate_?"

The author laughed at her impatience. "Like you said, I'm bad at talking. But whatever, since you're obviously not letting me out of this anytime soon, yeah." He took a longer drag of his cigarette than before, as though taking a deep breath to prepare for what was yet to come.

"My style… Well, I don't believe in all that 'lasting forever' crap, so I've never really tried to make a truly memorable character. Even if you read my book, you wouldn't remember the hair color or eye color or whatever. Their personality isn't much to remember either. But what really mattered to me were the plot and the words. Each and every moment had to keep the reader enchanted by some spell that only I would know the words to." His eyes seemed to have lit up with each word.

"Uh…sure." Sakura shifted her eyes longingly towards the direction of her small apartment. "Look, it was great meeting you and all, and any other day I would've gotten your autograph for my friend, but I really better get going." Without waiting for a response, she walked off in a hurried pace, eager to leave the man for a warm cup of coffee in her humble abode.

"The pleasure was all mine, yeah," Deidara called after her, half irritated that she was not listening yet half amused at the same time. "Bring your friend next time!"

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered to herself. "What a weirdo, spilling secrets and things to a complete stranger. Talkative, too. Yep, definitely Ino's type." Suddenly, it hit her. "NEXT TIME?!" she almost shrieked, spinning around to find that he was already gone. Sighing, she turned back around, mumbling, "One can only hope not." As fate would have it, one's hopes were dashed the next day.

* * *

The weather had gotten even colder, and Sakura, not for the first time, wished longingly for the possession of a car. Of course, her wishful thinking remained merely that, and she was left to trudge from yet another school, in which she read to the classes, to her small apartment. The young woman's only comfort was the coat she wore and seemed to continuously wrap tighter around her body in an attempt to make it warmer inside. Needless to say, the biting wind in her face did nothing to help her cause. 

Suddenly, a rather nice sports car drove up beside the girl, its window rolled down and the driver leaning towards the opening to talk to her. "Need a lift, yeah?"

"I'm fine," Sakura gritted through teeth that were tightly clenched, partially due to her irritation but mostly because of her frozen state. "Only three more blocks to go."

"I have butt warmers…" Deidara offered in a tempting voice.

And rather abruptly, the prospect of getting into a car with a man she just met and decidedly disliked did not seem so bad. "Fine, but we go straight to my house, okay? Nothing weird or whatnot."

"Gotcha, yeah."

A stern expression directed at the man, and Sakura climbed into the passenger seat, resisting the urge to emit a relieved sigh at the warm air and admittedly comfortable…

"Butt warmers?" She looked at her blonde 'savior' incredulously.

"What about them?"

"You mean 'seat warmers,' right?"

He gave her an equally incredulous look back. "Uh…sure. Whatever floats your boat, yeah."

Sakura resisted the urge to glare at Deidara, having thoroughly enjoyed the fancy heating system he had installed in his car very much. She would never admit she appreciated his hospitality, though.

"Why don't you have a car, yeah?"

Unable to suppress the temptation, the young woman finally allowed herself to stare down the driving author. "Unlike _some _people, I don't have the money for college, an apartment, _and _a car, not to mention food and electricity and the like. What's it to you?"

The blonde man shrugged. "Dunno. Just wondering, I guess. What about a bus or a taxi?"

She snorted, "I only live a few blocks away from the schools I read at and my college. What's the point of wasting money?"

Her only response was another careless shrug. "I guess that's why you're working, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Why do you hate me so much, yeah?"

The question appalled her, leaving the pink-haired girl in quite the state of silence. "Wha—bu—I—" Sakura sputtered incoherently. Although shocked by his inquisition, she could not help but note some purpose to it. What, indeed, had he done to cause her to dislike him so? Personally, he had only complimented and helped her so far, yet she still responded haughtily. Perhaps it was the article's fault for its portrayal of him as a spoiled kid who loved the spotlight in her opinion. Or perhaps it was her jealousy _of _the very same spotlight he hogged. Or maybe envy of his ability to most likely obtain whatever he wanted in life. Whatever the cause, the girl had never truly thought of it until he brought it up.

Deidara continued, despite having not received an actual answer at that moment, "At least, it just feels like it, y'know? I'm getting these vibes from you that aren't necessarily nice, yeah."

Sakura remained unable to find an answer.

And he still went on. "So I began wondering if I did anything wrong, yeah, and I feel I should get a second chance 'cuz we don't really know each other, yeah? "

Still speechless, she nodded.

After a sideways glance to see her reaction, Deidara grinned. "Great, yeah! How about tomorrow at ten? Unless your schedule's filled already…"

She shook her head.

"Perfect. You said three blocks, yeah? I think we're here."

"Thanks," Sakura finally managed to mumble as she stepped onto the curb, her expression still blank from the question earlier. Strange how one sentence can affect a person, is it not?

"No problem," he said, his eccentric grin widening. "See you tomorrow, yeah!" With that, he drove off, leaving the young woman to stare at the rear end of his automobile.

Suddenly, it dawned upon her.

"Did I just agree to go on a date with that jackass?!"


	2. Third Chances

**Words of Wisdom**

**Disclaimer: **Me no own. Hence "disclaimer." And hence "FANfiction."

**Author's Note: **Ahaha...yup, the long-awaited second chapter of my first DeiSaku! Yay! Sorry, no excuses other than I'm lazy and hate working. Oh, and I hate love lifes right now because...yeah, boys are jerks to me. So sad. But whatever, review and maybe the next chapter will come out within the next...year...heh. Holy cow - it's been 8 months since I posted the first chapter! Well, now I feel awful. Hah, sorry! Please forgive me.

I hope you like it!

* * *

**Chapter Two: Third Chances**

Impatience swelled within the pink-haired girl as she sat in her wooden chair, her neck craned to view the silent door across her apartment. She tapped a carefully painted fingernail on her kitchen table, almost as though she were daring the door to open when her attention wavered towards a ticking clock.

Glancing at the device, yet somehow keeping the door in sight, Sakura groaned upon seeing that her date was a whole five minutes late. "Lazy bastard. I bet he's already forgotten that we have a date and is busy screwing some girl like Ino who can't see past his good looks and fame." She then chastised herself for thinking so little of her friend—true, Ino could be shallow at times, but the blonde knew there was a lot more to guys than a handsome face and well-known name.

However, Sakura was not at all ashamed of what she called Deidara for she was really just searching for reasons to dislike him more than she already did. Again, she muttered, "Lazy bastard," and began tapping her finger once more.

Perhaps another reason for her increasing irritation with the man was her hours of preparation for this date of which Deidara was five entire minutes late for. Sakura narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"_Relax, Sakura. It's just a date—nothing more, nothing less. It's not as if I'm signing my life away to him," the young woman muttered to herself as she rifled through drawers and drawers of clothes, making a rather nice mess in her room. Shirts, pants, skirts, dresses, and even undergarments had been strewn across the floor and bed by the girl. (Although, she honestly had no idea how her lacy black bra had gotten caught on her ceiling fan.) "Why is it so difficult to find an outfit? It's not like I'm trying to impress him or anything!" _

It still had taken her at least two hours to finally decide upon an outfit. Of course, her important decision-making had not gone entirely without interruptions…

_Sakura jerked her head up when she heard the doorbell to her apartment ring obnoxiously while she was still just applying makeup. Suddenly, it occurred to the pink-haired girl that she had never told Deidara where she lived._

_Angrily throwing open the door with a strength she was unaware of, Sakura shouted, "You stalker, how the hell did you know where I live?!"_

"_Okay, Sakura-chan… One, I've known where you live since, like, the beginning of time, and two, I was only a stalker when I liked you nine years ago."_

"_Oh, Naruto! I'm so sorry; I thought you were someone else," she apologized sheepishly, blushing at her hasty assumption._

_Her blonde friend simply grinned broadly in response, clearly amused with the very same thing the mortified her. "Yeah, I kinda guessed," Naruto admitted. "It's just too funny to catch you all flustered. By the way," he continued, peering into her unusually cluttered apartment, "what brought on your flustered-ness?"_

"_That's not a word, Naruto," Sakura chided with false sternness that was betrayed by the playful smile widening upon her face, having obviously recovered from her embarrassment. "And it's because of my date."_

"_Oh…" the young man spoke in a knowing voice, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at his friend. "Who's the next poor fool to fall victim to your immeasurable beauty?"_

_At that, Sakura smacked him, pleasuring herself in the loud yelp he emitted, and promptly told him to shut up, get out, and go home to pay unnecessary loving attention to his girlfriend._

"_But Sakura-chan…" Naruto whined as his friend pushed him into the hallway of the complex, though he gave no opposition as he was more than happy to oblige and dote upon his sweet, loving Hinata-chan. Even so, the blonde went on whining until Sakura abruptly shut the door in his face._

_Despite the closed door, Naruto continued shouting at the young woman, completely dissatisfied with the answers she had given him. "You never told me who your date is. Tell me!" he demanded, pounding on the door again. "What if he breaks your heart and you need someone to beat him up? I can't beat up someone unless I know who it is!"_

_Sakura threw open the door. "You're not beating anyone up!" she commanded, exasperated with the blonde and rather worried for the intactness of her door. "Now, go buy Hinata a box of chocolates! She's getting too skinny—where do you take her for dates?" And she slammed the door closed once more, but not before throwing a plate at him._

_Naruto, irrational though he may be, was not stupid enough to incur even more wrath from his pink-haired friend (not to mention having another object hurtling towards his head), so he began backing up towards the stairwell of the apartment building, still muttering incessantly at the woman behind the twice-slammed door._

Finally, her bell rang, and again it occurred to Sakura that she had not told Deidara where she lived.

She flung the door open, completely ready to yell the living daylights out of her date, but the young woman could only stand stunned as the blonde author greeted her with a dazzling smile and a colorful bouquet.

He definitely moved up one notch on her totem pole.

"Hi, Sakura, yeah! Hope I haven't kept you waiting too long…" To Sakura's greater awe, Deidara sounded truly apologetic. "There was a bit of traffic on the way here. I tried to call you, but then I realized I don't know your phone number…"

Snapping back to reality, Sakura added, "You shouldn't know my address either, since I never told you."

He laughed. "You're smart. I like that, yeah." The pink-haired girl twitched before he continued, "But you did tell me what block you lived on when I gave you a ride, remember? And there's only one residential building on it, so I just asked the landlord."

"Oh."

Deidara laughed once more, holding out the flowers as soon as his chuckles subsided. "These are for you, by the way."

With a rosy blush, Sakura accepted the blossoms, much more gracefully than when she had accused him, and quickly placed them in a glass vase filled with water. Once pleased with the effect the flowers had on her kitchen, she walked out of her apartment and locked the door. She turned to Deidara expectantly.

"Ready?" he asked.

Scoffing, Sakura gave a dry response, "No, I just locked myself out of the apartment with you for fun."

"Who says it wouldn't be?"

The young woman sighed but indulged her date with an unsettlingly mischievous smile—the kind that she normally reserved for when Naruto was beginning to get on her nerves. "Be a gentleman, now, won't you?"

"Ah, of course, of course, yeah."

Suddenly self-conscious, Deidara rubbed the nape of his neck apologetically and offered his free arm. As soon as she accepted it, the blonde led Sakura towards the stairs, where the pair endured stifling and awkward silence as they trudged down the stairwell without speaking.

Finally unable to withstand the lack of conversation, Sakura uttered the first thing that came to her mind, "So what have you been working on lately?" She immediately gave herself a mental slap after asking that question, knowing full well the ramifications of asking about work on a date. "I mean—er—what I _meant _to say was—uh—" she began stuttering in an attempt to amend her mistake.

Amused by her anxiety (which coincidentally surfaced as soon as his disappeared), Deidara let out a short laugh, patting her arm in a comforting manner. "It's okay to talk about work with me, yeah. I mean, it's not like we really know much else about each other. You know that I write and have a damn sexy car, and I know that you read and don't have a damn sexy car. And hey, it's definitely more personal than asking me about the weather, yeah."

Sakura rolled her eyes at that. _Since when were there so many goddamned stairs? This is getting so awkward!_

"Well, anyways," the man continued cheerfully, ignoring the discomfort of his date, "I haven't been doing much lately, work-wise. That's why you probably haven't seen me in the papers recently, yeah."

"Leave it to you to sound so conceited," Sakura muttered lowly, irritated.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" She let an innocent smile spread across her face. "Actually, I was just lamenting about how tragic it is that the media completely ignores you simply because it's been only a year since you've released another book."

"Actually, it's been only nine months, yeah."

Sakura gasped dramatically. "That's still a long time! That's how long pregnancy takes before the mother gives birth!"

Deidara abruptly stopped walking and, turning Sakura around to face him, gazed into her eyes with an unnaturally grave glint in his azure irises. The intensity of the atmosphere made Sakura suddenly breathless, as she stared back into the man's piercing eyes. That is, until he asked, quite seriously, "Be honest with me—are you pregnant?"

Barely a moment later found the blonde aching with a particularly agonizing pain in his shoulder. "Holy shit, woman! That _hurt_, yeah!"

Moving to strike him again, Sakura was pleased to find that his immediate reaction was to withdraw to a safer distance. "Well, you deserved it—you suggested I was _pregnant_!"

"Why else would you know how long it takes a pregnant woman to give birth?!"

She glared. "I go to _medical school_."

"Oh."

Several moments of increasingly uncomfortable silence passed in which Sakura continued glaring angrily and Deidara shifted around nervously. (Why they seemed to be constantly changing positions of the meek and the confident, neither would ever know.)

"Sorry, looks like I ruined the date already, yeah."

Guilty at having overreacted a little, Sakura let out a sigh and said, "You couldn't have known, so I'll let you have one more chance—but this'll be the last one!"

Grinning triumphantly, the man whistled in admiration, "My, you certainly are the generous one. Anotherchance? I ama _very_ lucky man."

"Don't blow it."

At last, they exited the apartment building, and Deidara, eccentric grin still plastered across his face, led Sakura to his 'damn sexy car'. "I won't, yeah," he promised, holding a hand up to show his solemnity. "If all goes well, we'll be married before tomorrow and on the way to our honeymoon."

"What?!"

"Just a joke, yeah," Deidara assured, helping her into the passenger seat before letting himself into the driver's side. "Jeez, don't take everything so seriously. You're too young for that kind of shit."

Frowning, Sakura responded, "For your information, I'm a good twenty years old, _buster_. Don't talk to me like I'm just some little kid, got it?"

He grinned, revving the engine. "Of course, princess." As soon as Deidara stomped on the gas pedal, Sakura felt her body being thrown backwards into the seat as she gasped and grabbed at the seat for dear life.

"Are we even within the speed limit?!" the alarmed young woman exclaimed, quite prepared to fling herself through the window should she be required to. "Haven't you been ticketed before?!"

Yet another eccentric grin was aimed in her direction, accompanied by a barking laugh, and all Deidara said was, "It pays to be famous." _And rich enough to bribe any bastard who stops me. _He kept the smile plastered on his face, ignoring the cynical voice taking shelter within his mind.

The engine roared as the car continued its exceedingly fast journey through the numerous streets and roads and boulevards of Konoha, seemingly accelerating to unbelievable speeds with each passing second. Sakura tightened her grip on her seat, closed her eyes, and prayed earnestly that she wouldn't die.

And then the car slowed down. Hoping that her imagination was not deluding her, Sakura cautiously cracked open one eye, only to later open the other upon seeing the shiniest, fanciest, most elaborate apartment complex she had ever observed in her entire life sitting there in front of her date's parked car. (It was actually her date's parked car sitting in front of the building, but that fact had no significance to Sakura at that moment.)

"Wow."

Oblivious to his companion's disbelief, Deidara leaned back in his seat and commented, "Well, that was fun, yeah."

The awe-inspiring structure suddenly lessened in importance as Sakura stared irately at the blonde. "There were seventeen instances when someone almost died."

He stared right back, though his blue eyes communicated confusion rather than anger. "And?"

Disbelief shook the young woman's features as she carefully enunciated each word, all of which seemed tremulous in her fury. "Someone—could—have—died."

"But no one—"

"That makes no difference!" Sakura interrupted heatedly, unable to contain her rage much longer. "Do you have any idea how many people I've seen injured or die from people like _you_? You're lucky you haven't killed anyone yet!"

"Hey! Sure, I may be a bit of a crazy driver, but I'm not a _bad _one, yeah. It's not luck—it's pure skill, yeah."

Sakura said nothing to that. Her green eyes merely stared back at his azure ones in unpleasant silence. Finally, she opened the car door, stepped out, and began walking on the sidewalk, away from the apartment complex.

Deidara, very much befuddled, followed her in his car and, with his window rolled down, called out, "Where are you going?"

"Home." She refused to look at him.

"It's miles away."

"I'll get a taxi."

"You don't have money, yeah."

She stopped walking, turning on her heel to glare at him once more. "Then I'll walk. As long as I get away from lunatics like you, I'll be fine."

"I'm not a lunatic," muttered Deidara, for once not in a jovial tone. Louder, he wondered, "I thought I had another chance."

"I told you not to blow it. You did."

"How was I supposed to know you'd react badly to a little joyride? I, for one, enjoy a little exhilaration."

"Deidara, you do realize you're talking to a medical school student, right?" she asked ironically. "Near-death experiences do not amuse me _at all_."

"Alright, I'm sorry, yeah!" he apologized in exasperation. "It was an honest mistake! Won't happen again, promise."

Sakura resumed walking away from the man. "It wasn't an 'honest' mistake—it was your goddamned, exceptionally inflated ego! Your whole lifestyle is totally influenced by this self-idolatry you seem to have. All you celebrities are the same: rude, haughty jerks who expect anything they want to be served on a silver platter with a cherry on top. Seriously, what sort of sane man takes a girl to his apartment for their first date? You've got to have one hell of an ego to pull that off."

As soon as the young woman finished her rant, Deidara swiftly parked his car and jumped out to stand in her way. "What the hell do you want from me, yeah?" he asked. "I've tried every trick in the _library_ to impress you, but all you've done so far is judge me by it." The flared nostrils of the author caused Sakura to wonder if she had been in the proper mind when incriminating him. "The ride was just for fun because, hell, you sure looked like you needed some. And the apartment thing? Well, I figured you'd appreciate something _original_. But I guess there just isn't any pleasing you, Sakura, is there?"

The tension was so thick that all the passersby crossed the street to avoid the heaviness in the air crushing down on the twosome. The sensation was almost suffocating. Despite her doubts as to whether she was in the right, Sakura continued glaring at the man.

And then he laughed, breaking the smothering silence between them with the rich sounds of his voice. "We're not even in a relationship, and we just had our first fight!" he replied to her unspoken inquiry before laughing some more.

Meanwhile, only one thought ran through Sakura's mind at that moment: _He's insane._

As though he was suddenly frustrated, he ran a hand through his long, blonde hair, sighing exasperatedly. "I can't let you just walk home dressed like _that_, huh? What say we eat something before I take you back?"

At first insulted, Sakura realized that her outfit—with its stilettos and low-cut neckline—was not perhaps the ideal outfit in which to walk the several miles to her apartment complex. She sighed, too.

"Let's get this over with."

Smirking triumphantly, Deidara took the reluctant young woman by the hand and led her into the building. The pair entered an elevator, and as the metallic doors slid shut, he asked, looking at her reflection in the shiny doors rather than at Sakura directly, "So what kinds of books do you read?"


	3. One Condition

**Words of Wisdom**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the _Naruto _franchise, nor do I profit from posting this piece of fiction based on the series.

**Author's Note: **No, this story is not off hiatus. I just wanted a break from pulling an all-nighter to assuage my guilt on not updating _Heaven Forbid_, my HidanTenten multi-chapter fanfiction and main priority, so I did some polishing on my latest one-shot (_Speech Impediment_) and this story. I probably won't update for awhile again, but feel free to review! They actually do make me feel more motivated to at least work on this thing. In fact, if I don't get reviews, I kind of forget what I'm supposed to be working on in the end. So review away, my lovelies!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Three: One Condition  
**

"I don't believe it should be legal for males to cook this well," sighed a very content, very full young woman as she leaned back in her seat, lethargically rubbing her satiated stomach with a languid hand. Fingers pressed against satiny material, pushing the fabric into smooth creases outlining a small handprint.

Needless to say, her opinion of the eccentric blonde man changed quite drastically once his culinary skills were brought into question.

Deidara laughed good-naturedly, reaching over the table to grab her empty plate. "You didn't even leave me any leftovers, yeah!" he joked.

Holding up her index finger, Sakura claimed the pile of plates, utensils, and cups before the blonde could argue. "Since you got to make this excellent, scrumptious, delicious, tasty, and utterly mouthwatering meal, it's only fair if I wash the dishes." Without letting the writer interject, she marched purposefully, dishes in hand, out of the dining room.

Moments later, she reentered, dishes still in hand, and asked sheepishly, "Which way is the kitchen?"

Suppressing uproarious laughter, Deidara could only point wordlessly for the woman, who ducked her head in embarrassment as she shuffled past his shaking form. With a smirk at her disappeared form, he stood and followed her into the kitchen, where Sakura busied herself with soaking, soaping, and drying the few dishes they used, humming a nameless tune as she worked.

"I can dry."

She looked up, startled, with widened green eyes, pink strands of hair falling artfully in front of her face—they managed to somehow avoid masking her eyes. _Damn, she's pretty_.

"I'll be fine."

"I insist," he asserted, picking up the dishrag in a single, smooth motion, nearly undetectable to the naked eye.

Sakura smiled inwardly. "Whatever." Together, they completed the menial task of dishwashing in comfortable silence, occasionally broken by the clinking of their wine glasses or utensils with each other. The silence was meanwhile occupied by the pair surreptitiously stealing subtle and curious glances at the other.

The peace was broken by his cell phone, ringing now to the tune of another band's five minutes of fame.

An apologetic smile directed at Sakura, Deidara walked into the next room, flipping the device open as his soft smile dissolved into a vicious sneer. "I'm busy. What is it?"

"Deidara—" The blonde's sneer faltered at the atypical urgency in his typically grouchy editor's voice. "—look, something's up. The others, they're reestablishing contact with each other. They called me, asked if I knew your phone number. I told them we hadn't spoken since the article; they shouldn't be able to dig up much since I use a different name as your editor. Deidara, you there?"

Shaking his head, the author assured, "Sorry, Sasori, yeah. Hope they didn't give you too much trouble."

The man on the other line snorted, "Nothing I couldn't handle. It's you I'm worried about. After that farewell you gave Itachi, I've an inkling that they'll want compensation in addition to their original demands. Why again didn't you decline joining their 'secret society' from the beginning like I did?"

Deidara sighed. "'Cause you're an artist and therefore too independent and proud to be impoverished. As an author, which I still say is as artistic as your woodwork, I'm more desperate for attention and finances. That _is _how you described me, right?"

"In my defense, that was before I really knew you, so I was going with stereotypes," Sasori admitted. "But you know I'm right."

"As always, yeah. Thanks for the warning Sasori, but I'm in the middle of a date."

"Don't do something stupid." As impatient as ever, the redhead rudely hung up on Deidara without waiting for a response or offering any good luck.

Snapping his phone shut, the blonde stalked back into the kitchen, masking his concern with false amusement for Sakura's sake.

"Who was that?" asked the young woman, leaning on the counter with a curious expression.

"Ah, no one important. Just my editor, yeah," he said, waving the question away with a flippant hand.

Sakura raised an eyebrow, unsure to believe this man she barely knew—yet was undeniably attracted to—and pointed out, "But you were being all hush-hush in the other room."

"I just don't want any of my super secret plot points to leak out early," lied the man with a wink though he grimaced on the inside, "or else those critics will attack me before anything even hits the shelves—you know how I'm a misunderstood writer and all."

Rolling her eyes at her date, Sakura pushed herself off the counter and towards the young man, reaching up to fiddle with his collar, an object that suddenly caught her immediate attention. "I better be going, but I just wanted to say…thanks."

He grinned, a true expression despite his inner turmoil. "No problem. Let's do it again sometime, yeah."

"Yeah…" Unable to think of anything more to say, Sakura tiptoed and pecked her lips on his cheek, leaning back with a grateful smile. "I honestly did have a marvelous time."

Before he could speak again or—bless his heart—kiss her back, a knock on the door rang through the mostly empty rooms of his flat.

"Shit." Despite his alarm, the blonde was still inexplicably impressed at the timing of the callers.

Alarmed, Sakura asked, "Did I say something?"

"No, it's not you, yeah," Deidara hastily replied, too distracted by the imminent danger to answer kindly. He quickly rushed to his door and, glancing through his peephole, saw his visitors to be none other than the esteemed Uchiha Itachi and his hired muscle, Hoshigaki Kisame. "Shit," the blonde cursed again. "Sakura, um, you know in the movies, how the heroes sometimes climb through the air vents to escape the bad guys and stuff?"

Eyes widening in disbelief, the pink-haired girl said, "No. Stop right there. I don't know what's going on, or what perverted kind of game you're playing, but there is no way you are getting me to do that." Her arms crossed stubbornly, and she took to glaring at him as though he ought to be ashamed.

Deidara, meanwhile, found himself close to having a panic attack and, at that moment, really did not want to beg, but he could think of no other option. "Sakura, this is a really dangerous situation, and if you don't do this, we may die, and I really, really don't want to!"

At the strain in his voice, Sakura sobered with a sigh and looked to the nearest vent. "I swear, this is the weirdest date I've been on," she muttered, thinking back to one particularly disastrous blind date in the hopes of proving herself wrong, as the young man ripped off the grate with unexpected strength and helped her slip into the small passage. "Did you forget to pay your gas bills or something?"

"Shh!" hissed Deidara as he followed her into the tiny opening with much more difficulty.

Unable to turn her head enough to grant him a glare, she resigned herself to scoffing and following his whispered directions through the ventilation system. She never noticed that, despite the possibly hazardous situation, he quite thoroughly enjoyed the view he held of her behind. After several uncomfortable minutes of crawling, an unfortunate rip in her well thought-out attire, and the blonde's long hair catching in another grate, Deidara finally instructed her to push open their exit, yet another grate that faced downward. Finding some difficulty with it, Sakura was herded forward, and Deidara gave the metal grill a good kick, sending it flying downwards, and jumped after it.

The young woman followed with a less than enthusiastic expression and, having jumped wrong, fell into Deidara's arms, though she pushed herself away from them within the same instant.

"The car," he whispered anxiously, his azure eyes darting back and forth as he tugged her towards his sports car.

Sakura strapped herself in and immediately crossed her arms with a hardened glare directed at the blonde man. "I want to go home."

As Deidara started the car and joined the traffic, he sighed, "Too dangerous, yeah. They probably know you're with me and are searching your place, too."

Scowling, she demanded, "First of all, who is 'they'? Secondly, why? Thirdly, do you know how much this skirt cost?"

A traffic light turned red, and Deidara slammed his foot on the brakes, throwing their bodies into the seatbelts. While they waited for the green, he turned to Sakura and answered irately, "This is a life or death situation! Can you _please_ forget for a moment that I ruined this night and find a safe haven before someone, other than you, castrates me?"

Her eyes darkened hatefully at his reproach. "It's green," she gritted through tightly clenched teeth. The blonde seemed surprised at her words, as though he was oblivious to the horns honking behind them until she pointed them out. He gassed the car and crossed the intersection, the wheels squealing at the sudden movement.

When the tires finally quieted down, she muttered, "I've one condition."

"What's that?"

"Just don't get me killed."

Deidara hid his wistful smirk.

* * *

Sakura folded her arms crossly in a different and noticeably cheaper-looking car, glaring yet again at the blonde man with an angry frown. He merely grinned enigmatically in return.

"I am going to take advantage of this and leave you behind, you know," she said clearly.

"Sakura, don't be like that. We both know you can't hurt a fly, let alone a drop-dead-sexy novelist such as myself, yeah." He stepped out of the car before locking and trod nonchalantly to the nearest teller machine.

Really, his ability to joke in their dilemma was infuriating.

As Deidara withdrew essentially his entire bank account from the ATM, Sakura sighed, seriously considering following through on her threat of abandonment. Then she remembered that he was right—she simply was incapable of leaving the man to his as yet unexplained doom. She sighed once more and closed her eyes, wishing the nightmare away.

When she opened them, she found herself alarmed to discover that not only had the dream continued, but a rather conspicuous van with tinted windows parked next to their new vehicle. She peered harder, hoping to see through the darkened glass, but there was no need, as an incredibly muscular man stepped out and made a beeline towards the unsuspecting Deidara.

Having formed a sort of affection for the author despite their misadventures together (One could only assume that this could be attributed to his excellent cooking capabilities.), Sakura climbed into the driver's seat, started the car, and honked the horn repeatedly as if her life depended on it (which it did).

Both Deidara and the burly man, distracted by the noise, turned to see the flustered young woman rapidly backing the car out of the parking spot and careening towards the ATM, nearly plowing over several pedestrians along the way. Still honking, she threw the passenger door open and screamed, "Get in!"

Deidara, needing no further prompting, leapt into the moving vehicle, still clutching the bills he withdrew to his chest, as he glanced backwards to see his pursuer.

Clutching the chicken handle for dear life, he said gratefully to the young woman, "Thanks, yeah. That was some quick thinking."

When no response came from her, he looked over to see her jaw clenched and her grip so tight on the steering wheel that her knuckles whitened dangerously.

"Pull over."

Wordlessly, she complied. They switched seats quickly and silently, having reached a form of agreement between each other as the reality of their flight was finally grasped.

The pair maintained their silence for the next several hours, in which they switched cars yet again and found a cheap motel to stay at. Without consulting Sakura, Deidara booked a room for the two of them, posing as a married couple so as not to arouse suspicions.

As soon as they entered their room, Deidara procured a pair of scissors—from where, Sakura could only guess—and headed to the bathroom. Peering into the mirror, he fingered his hair and wondered aloud, "How do you think one of those faux-hawks—the ones that are all the rage—would look on me?"

The young woman, who had been staring listlessly at the blank television screen, nearly choked on her cough. "What?"

"Faux-hawk…on…me…maybe…yeah," the blonde reiterated slowly.

Sakura shook her head, disbelieving. "No, not at all. And _why_ do you ask?"

Deidara seemed somewhat offended that she thought he could not pull off a faux-hawk, but he explained, "We should probably change our appearances a bit. Hair's a good start, yeah." He fingered a lock. "Buzz cut?"

"No!" Startled at her own vehemence, she amended, "I mean, it seems a waste, since you take such good care of your hair."

"Well, I've got to do _something_!"

"Fine," the woman said snappishly, grabbing the scissors from his hands. "Let me cut it."

With surprising gentility, considering her current disdain for the man, Sakura snipped at his long blonde locks until they transformed into an inconspicuous, short, layered shag. She stepped back to admire her work and gave a slight nod of approval. Deidara, who had watched the entire process in the mirror, fingered his shortened hair admiringly, noting how the simple change rather drastically altered his entire appearance.

He smiled gratefully at the young woman. "You're turn."

She shook her head. "There's not really much you can do about the length. It's already pretty short—" Her lips suddenly stopped moving as his hand swept a stray lock aside. Sakura mentally cried at her heart to cease its pounding and resume a calmer, healthier rhythm.

Deidara suddenly sighed. "I'm gonna miss it, but we've gotta dye your hair."

The young woman clenched her teeth, ignoring her desire to protest with the unfortunate knowledge that pink hair does tend to stand out in a crowd.

He went out to purchase some hair dye at the closest drug store. In the meantime, she returned to listlessly watching the blank television screen, allowing her aimless thoughts to wash over her.

What the heck did she do to deserve this?

As she mused what _possibly _could have gone wrong to screw up her karma so badly, Sakura drew a big fat blank. After all, the young woman was in medical school, working part-time as a reader to kids in elementary school to foot her bills—hardly incriminating actions. Well, there was that one time…

She blushed when the memory resurfaced. There was the exception that proved the rule, she supposed.

Thankfully, a distraction arrived when Deidara returned. Noting his choice in color—black—she raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Am I going to need a fashion overhaul as well?"

Rolling his blue eyes, Deidara shook his head. "It's just that black hair and green eyes are a winning combination. Of course, not as good as what you've got going now, but it's next in line. And we want you looking your best, yeah."

Sakura gave the man a sidelong look before taking the bottle and heading into the bathroom with an emphatic slam of the door. Her mouth twisted into an ironic half smile when she heard him wish her luck beyond the wall.

Resuming her earlier train of thought, she mumbled, "Oh, yeah. I'm here because I kind of like that guy."

* * *

**Afterthoughts: **Yes, I know, I'm horrible for ruining their hair, but come on—it's the smartest thing to do when one's being tracked down. R.I.P. Deidara's long hair and Sakura's pink locks. You shall be sorely missed.


End file.
